Storms Collided
by Arcee
Summary: My own Moulin Rouge fic... Christian is still recuperating a year after, and a new character, a new 'Sparkling Diamond'...
1. The Sparkling Diamond

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Moulin Rouge (because of a certain brilliant writer/director), only one character belon

**Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Moulin Rouge (because of a certain brilliant writer/director), only one character belongs to me…blah,blah,blah…go on and read already. ^^**

The few stars glittered in the late night sky that hung so dismally over the Moulin Rouge. The rain fell in curtains, thunder crashed, and lightening struck, the bright white lights from the club hard to be seen under the lightening. Christian ran a hand through his hair, from his neck forward, until he reached his forehead and let his hand rest there. It was dampened in a slick sweat, a sweat he'd been unable to keep dry for over a year. 

His room was littered in yellowed, aged papers, scribbles and scrabbles decorating each one in a fine artistic manner. The old and melting candles flickering in the cool gust of wind that was creeping it's way in from under the chipping shudders. He stared horribly intent at the stack of papers that had yet been yellowed, burned, or strewn about his filthy room. _The Moulin Rouge._

It had been a long time since then. A year at least. But the pain still shot through his heart when he awoke each day, to find his bed empty, his life no longer having meaning. He had dreams about her almost every night, and despite what Toulouse said, he wouldn't never rid of them. Her skin, her hair, her icy blue eyes, her red lips, long fiery hair, long smooth legs, sweet and caring heart. No, he would never forget them, no matter how hard he tried, how long it had been. 

Christian fell on his bed, shivering and not bothering to cover up. This was when he fell asleep, his heart still broken, no one to put together the pieces.

In over a year, the Moulin Rouge had never been closed. Not since…not since Satine had gone. But today, the rain, so horrible and frightening, kept the dance hall empty, the elephant dark and secluded. The dancers lay in their small, but comfy bunks that lined the backstage and crowded prop rooms. Only Arcee lay in her own bed, listening intently to the snickers and giggles of the girls in the other room. The rain was drowning the voices so much that she had slipped from her bed, empty for once, and gently pressed her ear to the door.When she still couldn't hear them, she pressed harder, until the left side of her face was flat against the door. She pulled away, shivering on the floor in her nightgown.

She didn't need to hear them. She knew what they were talking about. It was what they always talked about when Arcee was unable to 'perform' that night. When the Moulin Rouge was vacant of eager and lustful men, who came to see the 'Sparkling Diamond'. A tear rolled coldly down her numb cheek that had been crammed so hard against the door, and she flicked it away with a graceful sweep of her fingers. 

She had missed Satine too. She had loved Satine as if she were her own sister too. Except of course for Ninni, who didn't like anyone who was in the limelight instead of herself. Her own heart had broken that awful night, when she had crept into the Moulin Rouge and hid behind curtain to watch the spectacular performance of 'Spectacular Spectacular'. She had been caught halfway through the show and been shuffled out the door into the cold weather by an older woman by the name of Marie. As a little girl, she had always been fascinated with the Can-Can dancers, the sparkling lights of the Moulin Rouge, she loud, enchanting music that exploded into her ears. She never told her mother she spent every night at the club, watching and waiting, until she would too be old enough to dance there. 

In her young mind, it was a magical place, filled with nighttime pleasures she would never know about until the day she came to the Moulin Rouge, a young woman in search of a job. She was 19 now, still young, but old enough. She never would have dreamt she would have taken Satine's title, something she had been terrified of. Zidler, a kind, heavy set fellow with fiery red hair and bright blue eyes, had caught a glimpse of her standing alone in the hall, dancing alone, to a symphonic symphony in her mind.She hadn't meant to get caught. She hadn't meant to be beautiful. And she never meant to become Satine.

The rain had slowly stopped, until only the darkness remained. Christian rolled over once, his black hair hung over his eyes. He wiped the strands away. He sat up slowly, as if it pained him to do so. His white shirt, and black sweater, his black slacks, and black socks, rumpled and damp. He went to the window and pried open the shutters, a cold gust of wind knocking him backwards, the papers that painted his walls, fluttering about. He stepped onto the balcony and almost mechanically scanned over the city.He looked everywhere but there…the gigantic, towering elephant, the bright, creaking windmill that reflected everything he was trying to forget.

He hummed lightly the words to a song he had sang once, long ago…

"Seasons may change, winter to spring…but I love you…until the end of time…" 

But he couldn't help but look. His eyes cast a sad glow over the elephant, a room he had once stood in, a room he had fallen in love in. He couldn't tear his eyes away…

Until he saw something. He squinted, trying to make out the slim silhouette in the room. It moved, and Christian blinked. Who was in the elephant?! The curiosity was maddening… who was in the elephant? He turned away, at the sound of a knock on his door, and called out, "It's open." 

Toulouse bustled in, mumbling sleepily about something that Christian was ignoring. He turned back to the Moulin Rouge and squinted again, his brow furrowing.Deep inside the elephant, a mirror was reflecting the figure, and he couldn't quite make out the picture. Then the figure disappeared, and from the split second it took for Christian to blink, a tall, thin, elegant figure stood in the heart shaped opening. His heart wrenched and he stepped back horridly from the balcony into the room, almost tripping over Toulouse. 

He gasped and spun to face Toulouse. "I saw her, Toulouse! She's there!"

"Who?! Cwistian! You saw who?"He lisped.

Christian turned to point at the elephant and was shocked to find it empty, as if it had never been touched. He allowed Toulouse to nudge him in bed, and then heard the door shut, a quiet, lisping Toulouse pitying Christian. He _had_ seen Satine…he couldn't have been wrong. Why would he have had that feeling, otherwise?

More chapters to come… 


	2. Truth

Her mind exploded into fear when she heard a loud thump on her door

Her mind exploded into fear when she heard a loud thump on her door. Opening her eyes, she sat up quickly, so desperately urgent to find out where she was, and what that sound had been. Her eyes tried to focus in the dark room, filled with dying flowers, cases of make-up, jewelry boxes full of diamonds, and a closet full of costumes. She remembered.

Another loud thump caused her to jump. She called out in a tired voice. "One moment!"

She stood up slowly, painfully, a sharp pain shooting up her leg. She had fallen asleep on the floor again. The hardwood; cold and uncomfortable. She opened the door slightly. She looked back at the made up Ninni.

"We've got rehearsal, girl…get ready!" she said in distaste with her thick English accent.

Arcee nodded and shut her door quietly. She yawned, her body so tired, her eyelids so heavy. She couldn't sleep last night, so she went to the only place she knew that could give her some comfort. The Elephant. The room was almost bare now…for it had never been used afterwards. But Harold had begun his work in rebuilding it, and they started to take out the old and dusty furniture. The only thing that was left was a beautifully carved partition for changing, and a small, elegant vanity. She had sat at these mementos admiring the smooth feel under her fingertips. Satine must have once sat at them herself, dressed behind them, looked into them. 

She suddenly remembered rehearsal, so she began to put on her dress, her corset so loose and un-kept, it was no wonder she looked so unshapely.She peered at herself in the mirror, placing a hand on her stomach and pressing. Harold wouldn't like it…she'd lost too much weight. She was no longer shapely; she was skinny. How could men find that attractive? She shook the silly thought out of her head. Absurd, they didn't care. She imagined what it must be like for a man to love her for her mind.She shrugged it off and sat down at her own vanity, sighing.

From outside her door, she could hear the orchestra, warming up with a snazzy, jazz tune. The melody was catchy and she caught herself singing along. She stopped humming and ran a brush through her long brunette hair.

She slowly looked at herself, her mouth forming words. But the music stopped and she put the brush down. A flute began to play.

"It's oh so quiet…it's oh so still…" she sang softly.

The music stayed low. "You're all alone, and so peaceful, until…" The trumpets and drums exploded into song and she stood up, grabbing her brush and holding it to her mouth."You fall in love, the sky up above, is caving in.."

"You've never been so nuts about a guy, you wanna laugh, you wanna cry, you cross your heart and hope to die!" she crooned into her mirror, grabbing a handful of dying roses and throwing them into the air. The petals and leaves floated to the floor in a rainstorm, landing in her hair, and dancing about her room!

The music decreased again, into a decorative piano, a small flute, chimes… "It's Oh So Quiet… it's oh still…" she sang in almost a whisper.

It exploded again! " You blow a fuse, the devil cuts loose, so what's the use, of falling in love?!"

"The sky caves in, the devil cuts loose, you blow, blow, blow, blow, blow your fuse, when you fall in love!!!" she sang loudly, jumping onto her bed, throwing her arms out, and singing towards the ceiling. The music was thunderous; her voice was beautifully sweet. The music played on as she waved her arms through the rose petals, as now they were glittery, sparkling like rubies, still falling and landing all over her room. She dropped to her knees as the music stopped abruptly and she smiled to herself, breathing hard. 

Suddenly the door flew open and hit the vanity behind it with a loud crash, scaring Arcee who spun around on her bed, her dress getting twisted around her. "Harold!"

"We're waiting, my love! Are you re-" he stopped when he saw the bouquet of flowers on her floor, the petals and drying green leaves in a crumbly mess, scattered in front of her bed. "My heavens! What happened?!"

Arcee crawled to the edge and looked over, shocked to find them there. "Oh, Harold…they must have fallen!" she proclaimed, slipping off the bed clumsily, and straightening her red linen dress. The satin sleeves lying against her smooth skin, agitating her arms, in which she had to push them up.

Harold furrowed his bushy brows and placed his hand at the small of her back, guiding her though the door. "I'll get someone to clean it up, sweet-pea. Let's just go…we have to teach you a new routine!"

She gathered up the ruffles and petticoats of her dress and looked out over her shoulder, over Zidler, and at the roses…they only lay there at the base of her bed…

Christian awoke to the bright sunlight that blew in from his open window. Upstairs, through the small un-patched hole in his ceiling, he could see people moving around. Toulouse or Satie most likely. Throwing back his covers he sat up, throwing his legs over the side of his worn mattress. He put a hand over his eyes and rested his arm on his knee. 

Another day; another twenty-fours of boring life.He rubbed his eyes and stood up, going back out onto the balcony. The city was bright and glittery once again, the rain had left its' jewels. He glanced over at the elephant, now able to see all the way inside. It was empty, but that stomach-wrenching feeling was still inside of him. A funny feeling… he suddenly thought back to a time when he had once said those words…

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside. I'm not one of those who can easily hide…" he mumbled, staring out into the city.

"You suck at hiding, Cwistian!" a lispy voice said behind him. Christian spun around and gave Toulouse a look.

"Can't you knock, before you come in and insult me? And I wasn't hiding. I was…n't doing anything." Christian said, raising his chin.

"Sure, Cwistian. Nevermind that. Just make sure you're dwessed and weady for tonite!" He said with a glint of defiance in his voice. His eyes sparkled.

"For what?" Christian asked, sitting down at his small desk and running a finger over the keys of his typewriter.

Toulouse wobbled over to Christian's desk, his cane knocking against stacked books and tapping hard against the floor. "For tonite, Cwistian! Satie and I are taking you somewhere…and it's a surpwise!" he exclaimed gleefully.

"Where? I don't want to go anywhere!" Christian stated, staring directly at Toulouse.

"I said a surpwise, Cwistian! And don't forget your top hat!" he shouted as he moved away from Christian and towards the door. 

"Who said I was going?" Christian shouted, tapping his foot on the floor, as the door slammed shut. Deep inside, he knew he wanted to go somewhere, anywhere but his awful, small, messy room, filled with past memories and pains. Deep inside, he wanted to live again, live again for Satine. But was he ready to face the world again? He had only just been born into it…


	3. Beauty

Handsomely dressed, Christian stood waiting in his room, standing once again on his balcony and looking at the Moulin Rouge

Handsomely dressed, Christian stood waiting in his room, standing once again on his balcony and looking at the Moulin Rouge. Its' party was at full swing, the loud, thunderous, jazzy music floating up to his room, enchanting his senses once again. His foot tapped slightly against the wooden floor, and he peered down at the cobblestone streets below, glimmering. He rubbed his hat against his sleeve. He was getting anxious as to where and when Toulouse would take him to the 'supwise' and he desperately wanted to go before he changed his mind.

Just at that moment, the whole lot of the Boho's exploded through his door, and he was surrounded by the singing and lively bunch.

"Toulouse! Where are you taking me?!" He shouted over their drunken stupor as he was being carted out of his door. 

"You'll see my fwiend! You'll see!" He shouted back merrily.

***

It was only a few moments before he was almost carried by the Argentinean and the Doc, to the front steps of the Moulin Rouge. Christian was horrified. 

"Toulouse!!" he shouted, in sudden desperation to run as fast he could allow from the fun, lively, energetic scene. 

"It's awight, Cwistian! This will be fun!" 

In only a matter of a few minutes, Christian was seated at a table, watching his friends laugh it up and have a good time with the beautiful can-can dancers that pranced around the club, scantily clad, and _very_ forward. How could this be happening? He'd been dreading this moment ever since Satine had gone. Dreading it so much, he'd spent every waking moment, every sleeping, every breathing moment imprisoned in his room. 

And just when he thought that awful feeling inside of him was beginning to reside, the lights dimmed, the music fell silent, and the room stopped talking and moving. It was almost as if they had stopped breathing. And that was when his stomach began to flutter. Glitter rained down on the crowd, and a swing was slowly being lowered into the audience. His heart almost stopped beating when he saw her. Her ivory skin, glistening in the light, and her red lips; the color of blood, she was amazing. Her eyes were so sharp, and so clear, he couldn't even began to describe what color they were, and her long brunette hair was in ringlets, sexily teased around her thin frame. The sparkly bodice she was wearing so resembled something he had once seen he couldn't clear his head. His mouth dropped open in shock as she began to sing.

"The French are glad to die…for love. The delight…in fighting duels. But I prefer a man who lives… and gives expensive…" she paused for a moment and began to lean back.

"Jewels…" she whispered. The drums began to pound, and the crowd began to cheer as she started to lower again, a smile on her beautiful face. Christian couldn't believe his ears…the same number Satine had once enchanted her audiences with, was now being sung by a different woman. A woman he didn't know. 

She was singing at full force now, walking among the crowds, singing devotionally at the lusting, shouting, and hungry men who surrounded her. The words were so familiar; it almost felt as if it was the same night he had first met Satine. But alas, his heart knew better. It was the same. It was totally different.

Arcee finished her number, her heart racing inside her chest, her head pounding, her chest heaving. She now stood shakily in her dressing room, ready to change into her other dress, but so very tired, that she wanted to throw herself on her bed. It was the natural high she got when performing that made her so tired at the end of the act. And now, here she was in her room, desperately trying to keep from collapsing. It would pass. She swept a blush brush over her face and smiled into the mirror. 

Her door burst open then and she screeched in surprise. "Let's go Arcee! Your next song is up!" Arcee nodded and quickly got Marie to tighten her corset, while she placed some more lipstick on her lips. Inside, she so tired of the hustle and bustle of show business, and all she wanted, was to relax…just one night. She'd much rather sleep all day and all night than have a multitude of lovers waiting for their turn in her bed. Would it be so much trouble to just have one person… one man to love her for her, and not for how much she could give…? As she sucked in her breath with each tug of the laces against her back, she stared sadly back at her reflection. No, she supposed…she guess she couldn't.

***

"Toulouse…are we through with this place yet?" Christian asked tiredly, half from it being so late, and half so overcome by the shock. 

Toulouse shook his head. "Not yet, my fwiend. Just wait one more hour!" he laughed, taking a huge gulp of his wine glass, filled to the brim with a green substance.

Christian nodded, and wondered why he didn't just get up and leave. Why _didn't_ he leave? Toulouse wasn't his father; he wasn't his keeper. He could leave anytime he wanted to. Standing up to leave, he walked directly in front of the stage towards a side exit he had once used many times during the production of 'Spectacular Spectacular', when the lights darkened to a pitch black and he couldn't see anything in front of him. Then a light blinded him; a spotlight aiming directly at him. Christian squinted in the light, and then he realized that everyone was staring at him. Wait…no, not at him; at something behind him.

As he turned, he was instantly mesmerized. There she was. This time, a long red satin dress, with a black transparent shawl that wrapped around her silken bodice, accentuating her lovely curves. Her head was down, and she wore a black top hat, with satin around the brim. Her long, luxurious, dark hair, in a long cascade of curls spilling out underneath her hat. She stood straight, her fingers clasped together, fidgeting nervously. Christian couldn't tear his eyes away, and they scanned her down, and then back up again in absolute wonder. Who was this woman? As he felt around behind him for a chair, without ever looking away from her, he hit one and it skid a little bit against the floor, the loud scratching sound causing her to flinch.That was when she finally looked up, and their eyes locked.


	4. Love

Arcee had to scream at herself inside to begin the song. Stop staring! For the love of god, stop staring! The music began more quickly than she had remembered in rehearsal. The piano was soft at first, so soft Arcee almost missed her cue, so she opened her mouth and started to sing, but froze. Her eyes would cease to stare at the handsome man who was directly below her. She blinked as her cue went by. From where she was standing, she could see Zidler from the side of the stage, and he was furiously making hand signals to the pianist to play the notes over again. Her cue came again, and she closed her eyes. Hmm.yes this works. I can't see him.I can do this. She thought to herself.  
  
"Embrace me.my sweet, embraceable you." she sang, her voice low and sultry. "You irreplaceable you."  
  
As she sang, she opened her eyes, and the man was still staring at her. Her stomach fluttered and she quickly looked away, towards a group of men to his left. She sang to them.  
  
"Just one look at you - my heart grew tipsy in me." She said, pouting her lips and pointing a playful finger at them. "You and you alone, brings out the gypsy in me."  
  
"I love all the many charms about you: Above all, I want my arms around you. Don't be a naughty baby." she sang sexily, taking one slow step down the staircase that led to the dance floor.  
  
"Come to mama, come to mama - do!" This time she sang loudly and ran a finger across a strangers' chest. It was so easy to entice these men, and all she had to do was touch them. As she finished her song, she sat on the stage, crossing her legs, throwing her head back in one dramatic motion.  
  
"Me sweet embraceable." she paused and she threw her head forward and let out a high note. "You!!!" When she finally stopped, she looked into the crowd to see that they were screaming, jumping, clapping; an uproar of applause. She smiled sexily and hopped off the stage, walking up the steps and looking over her shoulder. She blew a kiss and continued on behind the curtains. She could still hear the applause.  
  
Peering out behind the large, velvet curtains, something she always did after a performance, her smile faded as she saw the man from before, staring sadly and oddly at the curtains. He looked so irrevocably saddened, that Arcee felt her heart sink. Suddenly someone called her from off stage, and she turned her head away. But from that moment on, she couldn't stop thinking about the saddened man.  
  
***  
  
Christian watched as the room filtered out into the early morning. It was still very dark outside, and Christian was surprised to find himself wide- awake. Toulouse and the other Boho's were dancing drunkenly around a few courtesans, but Christian couldn't stop thinking about Satine and the mysterious clone that had sang a few hours ago. They hardly looked alike, but both were beautiful, they were both seductive, and they were both the stars.  
  
What was he doing? He shouldn't be here. As he glanced over at Toulouse and his friends, his eyes caught onto someone on the orchestra stand above the stage. Pulling his hat off slowly, his eyes stared at the lovely creature who was leaning over the rail on her arms, and looking around the club. Her long satiny hair was pulled back away from her face, and Christian noticed how young she was. Still wearing the red silk dress, her indescribable eyes scanned at the emptying tables and dance floor. The orchestra still played softly. It was a song he knew.  
  
"When I fall in love, it will be forever. Or I'll never fall in love. In a restless world, like this is, love is ended before its begun. And too many moonlight kisses, seem to cool in the warmth of the sun."  
  
Christian couldn't tear his eyes away. Was his heart playing tricks on him? Why was it betraying him, why his heart?  
  
"When I give my heart, it will be completely. Or I'll never give my heart. And the moment, I can feel that, you feel that way too, Is when I fall in love with you."  
  
What was he doing here?  
  
***  
  
"And the moment, I can feel that, you feel that way too, is when I fall in love.with you."  
  
Arcee sang along to the slow song quietly. Her heart was heavy, and she couldn't erase the image of the man at her performance. His green eyes were saddened. Were they saddened because of her? Sad of something long since past? She couldn't figure it out. Standing up, Arcee reached behind her neck and ran her fingers through her long hair. She pulled the hair tie out of the locks and they cascaded down her shoulders and back. She glanced down, and then made a double take.  
  
There he was.  
  
His features were striking, though he looked rather tired and sad. Short, black hair with strands that hung over his eyes, green eyes, slim build. His suit fit him nicely. And he was looking at her in that way again. It was such a look that it made her feel.wanted. And not in a lustful way, but genuinely wanted. Smiling, she made her way to the stage.  
  
"Cwistian, my friend.tired are we. We go now." Toulouse slurred loudly in Christian's ear.  
  
"Go ahead Toulouse.I'm coming." Christian commanded his drunken friend. When he looked back up at the orchestra, he was disappointed to find the beautiful woman missing. When he turned back to go home, he was taken aback by the tall beauty before him.  
  
"Bonjour, monsieur. " She said, a faint smile at the corners of her pouty lips.  
  
"Uh.Bonjour." Christian said. He hoped she didn't speak French.  
  
She seemed to realize that he didn't so she exhaled embarrassingly. "You.looked a bit lost. Do you need anything?"  
  
"Oh, no, no.I'm fine. Um, you're performance was beautiful tonite." Christian breathed. He was sounding like an idiot. Like some ogling jerk.  
  
"Oh, thank you. I'm Arcee, and you are.?" She said.  
  
"Christian." He said quickly, sticking out his hand. Arcee was taken off guard. She slowly put her hand in his and shook it up and down. Was Christian an idiot? You kiss a lady's hand.KISS not shake!  
  
Bending down, he sloppily kissed their intertwined hands and Arcee laughed. Christian pulled his hand away quickly, his face flushed. "Sorry."  
  
He noticed that Arcee's gloved hand was lingering in the air, and she slowly pulled it to her side. It's nice to meet you, Christian."  
  
Christian's mind exploded. His name spoken in her voice was like that of an angel. "I should hope you would return to tomorrow night performance. Shall I count on seeing you there?"  
  
Christian nodded slowly. As he watched Arcee's soft face break into a grateful smile, his own mouth formed a happy smile. Taking a step forward, she placed her hand on his shoulder gracefully and kissed him softly on the cheek as a goodbye. With this, she walked past him briskly, gathering her silk dress so that she wouldn't trip.  
  
"Goodnight, Christian." Christian looked up. Arcee had stopped and turned to wish him a goodnight, but then she glanced past him out the doors and grinned. "I mean, Good morning."  
  
Turning once more she disappeared behind the stage, and Christian walked ever so slowly outside. The sky was still dark, but the sun was beginning to rise beyond the horizon. To Christian, this morning was a good. Probably the best one in a long time. 


	5. Paris Weather

Paris was nearing the evening once again, and Arcee had spent the entire morning and afternoon thinking about Christian. Why couldn't she get this man off her mind? The others were long since forgotten. But this one.there was something strangely different about him.  
  
As she walked the streets of the Montemarte, she took in the sights of the Paris sunset, the shimmer of the Eiffel Tower, and crowded streets of patrons. She was getting looks, she knew, but still she didn't care. She hated being stuck in the club with the other can-can dancers. They didn't like her, and she didn't like them. She didn't need them anyway. She was there to dance and to sing.among other things. She sighed sadly deep within. Averting her eyes to a bakery, she realized how hungry she was. Walking towards it, she was nearly trampled.  
  
"Arcee!" A voice said shockingly. Looking down, as she smoothed out her dress, she saw Toulouse standing there. "I'm so sowey! Forgive me!"  
  
Arcee smiled sarcastically. " S'quite alright. How are you Toulouse?"  
  
"Just fine! I saw your show last night. Very bwueatiful! You met Cwistian last night as well?" He asked, steering out of the bakery's direction. She had been so focused on getting there, that she didn't pay attention to Toulouse until he mentioned Christian's name.  
  
"Um..yes, yes I did." She mumbled.  
  
When Toulouse didn't reply, she gazed down at him uneasily. He was staring coyly at her. "So.what do you think about him?"  
  
"What do I think? I don't know.he seemed a bit shy."  
  
Toulouse laughed. "But so are you.when you're out of the Moulin Rouge."  
  
He had a point. Arcee tended to keep to herself. Less chance of getting hurt that way. "He seemed nice Toulouse, but I barely met him!"  
  
"Do you think he's handsome?"  
  
Arcee stumbled a bit in her graceful walk, and Toulouse looked up at her. "Toulouse! What are you up to? What are these questions?"  
  
"Nothing, I'm sowy. I'd better be off, my dear Arcee. Till we meet again?" With this, Toulouse waddled off and Arcee stopped. They had walked clear into a different part of town, a place she had never been. Where was she?  
  
The rain wasn't pouring, but it was enough to drench any pedestrian of the Montemarte streets. Christian had once hated being in the rain, but now, he welcomed the darkness that it brought and took a walk every time it did. He walked past the Moulin Rouge once or twice, trying to psyche himself to going inside. She was in there. She had asked him to see her performance. She wanted him there. But no, she was just being nice, he was sure.  
  
He felt horrible. Once again those feelings were arising, the ones he had thought he would only have for Satine. She had wanted him to go on, but why did he feel so guilty?  
  
Gazing at the footsteps he was taking, he hardly glanced at passengers as they walked by him. His black hair hung in his eyes, and he swept them back every few moments. Water dripped off the dark strands, onto his cheeks and off his nose. As he turned the corner to go back to his home, he was met with a loud thump and he tumbled to the ground. Someone fell on top of him. The person was breathing hard, like they'd been running the streets for hours. A woman, he could tell, from the wet strands of hair that hung in his face.  
  
"Oh, excuse me! I'm so sorry, sir. Forgive me!" The woman apologized, scrambling to stand. He dress was stuck everywhere on her body. She couldn't get it unwrapped from her legs. She stumbled and fell to her bottom. Christian stood up and immediately helped the woman up.  
  
"No, excuse me. I wasn't watching where." Christian's voice trailed off as he stared at the woman before his eyes. She was busy organizing her dress, trying to get the wet fabric to stop clinging. When she looked up she froze as well. Arcee stared at him, her gorgeous eyes wavering. She was drenched from head to toe, as was Christian.  
  
"Hello, Christian." She said softly.  
  
"Arcee." He breathed. Realizing she was out in the rain, instead of inside the Moulin Rouge, he took a step toward her. "Why aren't you at the club? Don't you work tonite?"  
  
"Yes! I do, but see, Toulouse and I were talking and I got lost, he.you." Arcee stammered. Taking a breath, she let out an embarrassed laugh. "I suppose it's a bit late now."  
  
He couldn't stop staring at her. He felt a shiver run through his body, not sure if it was from the rain or from her, looking so vulnerable, cold, and wet. He watched her lip tremble.  
  
"Please, let me take you to place.you can dry off." He offered, holding out a hand.  
  
Arcee's face was blank, as she stared at his hand, not sure whether to take it or not. Christian prayed that she would. He closed his eyes for a split second and when he opened them, her hand was in his. Smiling, he jogged toward the hotel, and his room that overlooked the Moulin Rouge.  
  
Inside, the clomped up the stairs, Christian gingerly helping Arcee with her heavy, soaked dress. "These dresses are a pain." Arcee commented.  
  
Once inside, Christian watched Arcee as she looked around with amazement. "You're so lucky." She almost whispered.  
  
Christian smiled confusedly. "Why do you say that?"  
  
Arcee turned to him with a brilliant smile on her face. "This beautiful room. You own it; you live in it."  
  
Christian smiled, following Arcee as she ran a finger over his typewriter. She laid a hand on his book. "You're a writer."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You wrote Spectacular Spectacular?" Arcee asked, her smile gone. Christian started to smile and say yes, when he noticed the strange look on her face. He couldn't decipher it. "Christian." she whispered. His heart jumped at her voice.  
  
"You.Satine." Christian's smile immediately disappeared at her words. "You're the Christian."  
  
"What?" he asked, confused and not liking where this conversation was going. Did she once know him?  
  
"You were in love with Satine." She said.  
  
"I'd rather not talk about it." he said, turning towards his bed. Tears stung in his eyes.  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder and a gentle squeeze, it slid slowly to his elbow and he was turned around. "I'm sorry." Christian nodded, trying hard not to look in her eyes. When he did, he expected to see pity. He did not.  
  
"It's a bit chilly in here." Arcee commented. She looked down at her soft linen dress, and the soaked petticoats underneath. Christian started a fire in the fireplace.  
  
"You can dry your dress here if you want. I have a shirt you can wear."  
  
Arcee nodded and he turned his back, listening to the sounds of her petticoats being pulled off. When she asked for the shirt, he turned halfway and handed it to her. He tried not to see her, but he did. The white corset was tight against her body, and he saw every curve. He turned back around quickly, ashamed.  
  
Paris was being drowned in the pouring rain which had started out soft but was now pelting the ceiling. Arcee and Christian talked throughout the night, laughing at one another, and generally having a good time. Sitting opposite one another on Christian's bed, Arcee flipped her deck of cards over one at a time, matching the speed of Christian. When two Queens were finally matched, both slapped at them, trying to win. Arcee's hand was faster.  
  
"You won again! Agh!" Christian exclaimed. Arcee laughed playfully and gathered her cards.  
  
"I'm good at this game."  
  
"Uh-oh.I've awakened the werewolf." Christian groaned. He was swiftly hit in the head with a pillow. As the game continued on, so did the fire, until Arcee jumped off the bed and scurried to her dress which was not beginning to smoke. Christian helped her unload her dresses and she examined them.  
  
"It was going to catch.good thing I caught it. Marie would have killed me.even though Zidler probably has my tombstone written out for missing work tonite."  
  
Arcee looked at Christian as he looked over her dress. He was handsome. His green eyes, black hair, and lean body. There was freckle on his right cheek. When he looked up, she looked away shyly. Standing back up, she yawned and headed back to the bed. So did Christian. At the same time, both fell onto it, landing near one another. They laughed.  
  
"You can stay here tonite, if you want."  
  
Arcee smiled and rolled onto her side to face Christian. His voice was sleepy. As his eyes closed, Arcee snuggled closer to him, and gently pulled the blankets over them. Softly, she swept a stray hair out his eyes and closed her own. She fell asleep with a smile on her face. 


	6. Lamour

When Christian opened his eyes, he was no longer in Paris, but in the aesthetic realms of his dreams. And amidst the blackness that enveloped him, there she was. Fiery red hair, icy blue eyes, soft, pale white skin. Satine. And as he wrapped her up in his arms, he felt at peace.  
  
"I miss you." He whispered gently into her hair.  
  
"Christian.you have to go on." She spoke softly, barely above a whisper.  
  
"But I can't! I can't go on.not without you." He pleaded with her. Gazing into her beautiful blue eyes, he wanted with all his heart, to have her back.  
  
"Yes you can.there's someone who can lead you, who will lead you. She loves you, Christian." He heard her say. And somewhere far off in his dreams he saw her. Her long brown hair, indescribable eyes, beautifully smooth skin, curvaceous build. Satine walked backwards from his hold on her, and smiled. "I loved you Christian.love, above all things, you believe in. Give your love, Christian. Don't hold back."  
  
With these parting words, she walked away slowly until she disappeared.  
  
Opening his eyes for real, he looked in a sleeping face of Arcee. He memorized the arch of her brow, the length of her lashes.he memorized her true beauty. But then, when he thought of Satine's words, he felt incredibly guilty.  
  
Silently, he pushed himself off the bed, slowly at first, but then eager to get away from her. He shouldn't be feeling this way! Not about someone else! Not about anyone but Satine. Crossing his arms over his chest, he sighed deeply and leaned against his desk, looking at Arcee's sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell slowly, her eyes fluttered every few minutes, and her long fingers grazed the place where Christian had once been sleeping. She was dreaming.but about what?  
  
***  
  
The lights were out backstage of the Moulin Rouge. Arcee leaned against the curtains, tears streaming down her face as she watched Satine's life slip away from her. The man that was holding her dead form was weeping. Then, as if it finally hit him, he threw his head back and sobbed. Arcee could only see his black hair, his hunched shoulders.and Arcee knew something beautiful had been lost that night. At 17, she had snuck backstage almost every night to watch the dancers kick and flirt with the men, and her favorite part, when Satine lowered from the ceiling and awed everyone with her beauty.  
  
Arcee crept away from the sad scene slowly, until she turned around and started running as fast as she could. She wanted out. Looking over her shoulder, she kept running and ran hard into a soft belly. She fell to the floor with a loud thump and looked up, scared out of her wits. It was Harold.or Zidler as everyone called him. He was looking down at her sadly.but he was smiling.  
  
***  
  
Christian watched Arcee until her eyes opened and she stared at the ceiling. Sitting up, her shoulders sagged, and she looked off into the city of Paris though the window by his bed. Her eyes were distant, and Christian wondered if she knew he was there. Slowly her head turned towards him and she looked surprised.  
  
"Hello."  
  
Christian greeted her back with a nod, and his eyes shifted nervously to her and to the window beside him. The guilt was driving him insane. He wanted Arcee out of his sight, but he also wanted her to stay with him. These feelings were new. Arcee seemed to sense how uncomfortable he was, and she slipped off the bed, heading for her dress, which was now fully dry.  
  
"I should probably go.and I need to change." she looked at him and Christian looked at her for a moment before he realized what she meant. Quickly he spun around and busied himself with straightening the stack of white paper on his desk. He listened to her shake the petticoats and then pull them on. She grunted as she fitted the tight dress over her corset, which had loosened throughout the night. Finally, after a few minutes, she strode past him and looked in the tiny mirror on the well next to his door. She smoothed down her hair, frowned and then turned around.  
  
Christians' shirt was in her hand. "Thank you for letting me stay."  
  
"You're welcome." Christian said solemnly, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looked down at the floor and then looked up. Arcee's eyes were sad, but she smiled and opened the door.  
  
"See you sometime?" She asked, but before she waited for an answer, she shut the door behind her.  
  
Christian let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.  
  
Marie drew a bath for Arcee later that night, after Zidler yelled at her for not being at the club last night.  
  
"Where were you!?" Harold's voice had been livid.  
  
"I.was." Arcee had stammered. Not coming up with a good excuse, Zidler glared at her deadly and left the room. Arcee was on the verge of tears. Now even Harold hated her. If only.if only Satine wasn't gone, she wouldn't be in this mess.  
  
Later on, in the bath Marie had drawn, Arcee sat silently and still, staring up at the ceiling. Her thoughts raced.and the feeling that was rumbling in her stomach was driving her crazy.  
  
"I try but I can't seem to get myself to think of.anything, but you." she whispered softly, picturing Christian, his black hair in his mysterious green eyes, the way he smiled at her, the way he stammered when they first met.  
  
As they slept, " Your breath on my face, your warm, gentle kiss on I taste, I taste the truth.I taste the truth.  
  
Standing up, she sang slowly and deeply, softly and sadly. Water dripped off her body as she reached for her robe. She left the bathroom still singing.  
  
"I wanna be with you, if only for a night. To be the one who's in your arms and holds you tight."  
  
Once in her room, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. " I wanna be with you. There's nothing more to say. There's nothing else I want more than to feel this way. I wanna be with you."  
  
She opened her mouth to sing more, but there was a loud knock on her door. Christian immediately came to mind, and she opened the door quickly. The smile on her face faded as Harold loomed over her.  
  
"If you're not there tomorrow, I'm putting Ninni in your place.but that's only if you decide not to grace us with your presence." With this Harold darted out of sight, and Arcee felt the sting of hot tears. Closing the door, she threw herself onto her bed. An hour later, she closed her eyes, wiped away the tears that still lingered there, and whispered quietly. "I wanna be with you.I try.but I can't get myself to think of.anything but you."  
  
She knew where she wanted to be right now.but the question was, did Christian want her there? The thought that he didn't brought fresh tears. Why was it that she felt this way over a man? She hated the men she slept with every night at the Moulin Rouge. They wanted her to fulfill their lust. They didn't love her. She doubted Christian did either.especially since he was the one who held Satine the night she died. He had loved Satine.he would never love Arcee.  
  
Maybe the fact that Arcee felt like the loneliest person in the world was the reason she wanted to be with him so badly. Or maybe it was simple fact, that though she didn't want to, she loved him. She didn't want to love him.did she? The way he looked at her.it wasn't lust.it was something else. As the tears spilled down her cheeks, she hummed again, so soft it wasn't even audible.  
  
Christian didn't laugh as the Argentinean cracked jokes drunkenly, or even when Toulouse nearly fell in the whole that no one had repaired since the first time Christian moved in. Pretty soon, the drunken bunch, full of Absinthe and stale loafs of bread, crashed on the bed, leaving only Christian, who was looking out the window, and Toulouse, who was looking at Christian as he looked at the window.  
  
"What's wrong, my fwiend?" Toulouse asked, hobbling over to Christian.  
  
Christian looked at Toulouse. He hadn't wanted to confide in someone. But these strange feelings were making him uneasy.  
  
Before Christian said anything, Toulouse squeezed his shoulder and smiled. "She's very bwueatiful, isn't she? I was talking to her the other day.I think she likes you."  
  
Christian looked at Toulouse swiftly. "What makes you think that?"  
  
"Ah.so you were thinking about her."  
  
Realizing his mistake, Christian stammered. "Of who?"  
  
"You can't fool me, Cwistian. I know these things. But, Arcee's a sad girl. You have to be careful with her. I knew her before she worked at Moulin Rouge. Poor girl. All her family died of disease."  
  
Christian was silent as he thought. He didn't know how to respond. A few moments passed, and the Paris clock chimed loudly, noting that midnight had arrived.  
  
"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return, Cwistian. " Toulouse said quietly before leaving Christian's side.  
  
Christian knew the words.but still he was confused. Even if he did love her, did she love him in return? 


	7. As The Sparkle Fades

The air was turning frigid, and Christian watched his breath as he exhaled out on the balcony of his room. He gazed down on the Moulin Rouge, its sparkling lights, dazzling, enticing red windmill, and he listened to the sounds of joy and excitement of the patrons within. Arcee was in there, probably tantalizing the men and women with her beautiful face, long sexy hair, and eyes that even the greatest writer in the world couldn't describe. And how his heart longed for her to tantalize him, even more so than she already had.  
  
Even as he thought about her, the guilt inside was beginning to grow. It was a horrid monster, welling deep inside of his chest. He wanted desperately to scream, the emotion was so overwhelming. But then again, as he thought about her still, the guilt resided every so slightly until finally he couldn't feel it at all. This strange feeling was still as new as when he first felt it; when he first laid eyes upon Arcee as she lowered from the ceiling.  
  
"I try, but I can't seem to get myself think of anything but you." he sang lowly. Sitting down on a bench near his window, he clasped his hands between his knees. His head hung low, and he stared at the spinning windmill. "I wanna be with you, if only for a night, to be the one who's in your arms, who holds you tight."  
*** At 2:15, Arcee had had enough. The lights, the make-up, the tight costumes that restricted her breathing and the hungry men that tried to fondle her and grope her. She quickly bolted into her room and shut the door, ignoring the strange man that had been following her. She collapsed on her bed; similar to the same position she had been in last night. Lying there a few moments, she stared at the moonlight that was shooting beams across the room in the dark. She moved her eyes to look at her dresser, and in her mirror, she saw herself. Sad, forlorn, and desperate looking all in one. She looked away disgustingly.  
  
That was when she noticed Christian's shirt lying on the chair in front of her dresser. She had brought with her, and now it was here, and somehow, without evening realizing what she was doing, she was holding it to her face, breathing in his smell, and wishing that he was there.  
  
Suddenly, for the hundredth time in the past few days, her door swung open, but this time it wasn't Zidler. It wasn't Marie. And much to her dismay, it wasn't Christian.  
  
"I've paid for your company tonight, miss. I suggest we get started, hmm?" The man who had been following her said. He took off his top hat and his gloves.  
  
Arcee, thinking quickly, sprung up from the bed and smiled broadly. In an airy voice, she sauntered over to him. "You'll have to forgive me, monsieur. I'm afraid I'm all...closed up for the night. Perhaps another can- can girl would like to keep your acquaintance?"  
  
She started to lead him out when he placed a firm grip on her shoulder. "No, no mademoiselle, I do not think you understand. I have bought and paid for you...in fact..." he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a medium-sized velvet box. He let go of Arcee and opened the box, holding it up to the light and allowing her to peer at it. Inside, nestled in a soft silk pillow lay a pair of very large diamond earrings. They were at least two inches long, and the hunger down from a single 14K diamond. They a color she had never seen before, so dazzling it almost took her breath away. He pulled them out and clipped them onto her ears gently. When she gazed back into the strange mans eyes, she saw nothing but lust and desire. And as his hand traveled to the back of her dress, she was suddenly pulled into him, and he kissed her hard on the mouth. He squeezed her frail body so tight she thought she was going to suffocate. She pressed her palms against his chest to push him away, but he only held on tighter. Suddenly she was very scared, and she started to scream in a forced voice underneath his lips. He overpowered her and pushed her on to the bed. She tried to struggle, but no one would here her over the loud music from the club. As he kissed and groped her, she fought back tears and tried to think about something else, but her thoughts kept coming back to Christian. In some way, she felt as if she was betraying him, and she'd wish for anything not to be who she was, or look like she did, just to be with him. But she didn't even think he wanted her that way, and right now, she desperately wanted him. She wanted him to take her away from this place and the man who was lying on top of her. But he wasn't there.  
**** He tried to stop thinking about her. He tried to shut off those feelings, to lock them away and never feel them again. But the more he tried to suppress his urge to go to Arcee, the more he wanted to. "God help me." He whispered. "What if I help you instead?" A voice said behind him. Christian turned his head and looked into his room. Toulouse stood in the doorway with a grin and a bouquet of red flowers. Christian smiled slightly. "And what do suppose those might do?" Toulouse grinned even bigger and hobbled over to Christian. "Go to her. You want to; I can see it in your eyes." Christian lowered his eyes. "Toulouse I can't." "You have to go on, Cwistian! You can't stay locked in this room forever!" Gripping Christian's shoulders tightly, Toulouse forced him to look into his eyes. "She wanted you to go on." Christian's eyes were full of pain. He was conflicted about his feelings. He did feel something for Arcee but how could he ignore his feelings for Satine so quickly? His heart was crying out but he couldn't heed its tears.  
  
Christian looked to the windmill; the bright lights of it's spinning wheels antagonized him. Where was Arcee right now? What was she doing? What was she thinking about at this very moment? Standing, he took the flowers from Toulouse and headed for the door.  
He stood at the doorway to the Moulin Rouge. The two doormen looked at him precariously, trying to decide if they should let him. He wasn't dressed in the normal formal attire that the club usually required. "I'm sorry sir, coat-and-top-hat are not optional." One of the men said, standing in front of the doorway. Christian held the flowers behind his back. "I know, but it's urgent. I need to see Arcee." The two men looked at each other and smiled. Christian deciphered the look right away. They didn't believe someone like him would even know someone like Arcee. He sighed desperately and tried pleading his way in. "Please believe me. It's very important that I see her." "I'm sorry sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premises." "Please!" Christian shouted, startling the patrons who were entering and leaving the establishment. His heart was screaming by now. He needed to see her. He couldn't bare the pain any longer. "If you don't leave right now sir, we will escort you out." One of the men growled at him. At that moment, Zidler pulled up in a carriage with a group of wealthy men. Christian sighed a sigh of relief. Zidler knew him; he had to let him in. Christian yanked on his lapels as he passed by. "Harold please tell these gentlemen to let me in to see Arcee. It's very important that I speak with her." Christian's eyes wavered back in forth as Zidler pulled him over roughly to the side. "I'm sorry but I can't let you do that." Christian blanched. "Harold, please? I just want to." Zidler cut him off. "I won't have you messing with her head. She has a job here. I won't have you putting silly thoughts in her head about love." Zidler pushed Christian back, causing him to fall to the ground and gave a slight nod to the two doormen. They pulled him upward and shoved him towards the street where he fell again, lying there limply. Zidler's words hammered into his brain, he felt limp and weak. Is that what he did to Satine? Fill her head with silly thoughts of love? The flowers in his hand were brown now, crumpled and missing petals. It was hopeless, he thought. Absolutely hopeless. He would never love again. And Arcee would never know what it felt like to be truly and deeply loved. The world went on around him as usual. As he lied in the street, people passed him without giving him even a simply glance. Completely and utterly alone, his world collapsed in on him and he gave up. Until he heard a piercing scream so loud he felt as if his brain had shattered.  
**** Arcee tried with all her might to push the man off of her. She punched and kicked at the air, clawing at his face and trying to relief herself from the pressure he had on top of her body. He grabbed at her clothing, ripping it with ease. "Let me go!!!" She screamed so loudly she thought that she heard the walls shake. Why wasn't anyone coming? Why wasn't anyone trying to help her? Crying and screaming as loudly as she could, her emotions caved in on her and she couldn't move anymore. The man atop of her slapped her hard on the cheek and her head swung limply to the side. With all her emotions and tears spent, she cried out with one more breath, with all she could muster. It was the only thing she could think to say. "Christian!"  
**** Christian burst through the doors of the Moulin Rouge, knocking over both men. He ran at full speed through the courtyard, knocking past men and women, can-can dancers and waiters. He thrust opens the halls doors and entered into the screaming mass of patrons, dancing and shouting above the loud music. Into the backstage, he pushed his way toward Arcee's room. "I'm coming," was all he could think. Running and running, he finally came to her door and he tried to open it. The knob wouldn't turn. Another dreadful scream pierced through the air and Christian was dire in trying to get in. Taking a step back, with several dancers and attendants watching in horror at his ferocity, Christian sent a kick in the door that sent it flying open. Without hesitation or even a thought, Christian flew to the bed and grabbed the man by the jacket and threw him to the floor. "Christian!" Arcee cried out, hugging her torn clothing to her body fiercely. Christian dropped to his knees and began to beat the life out of her attacker. Punch after punch, the man laid lifelessly on the ground. The doormen from the front entered swiftly and tried to pry Christian away from the lifeless man on the floor, but Christian's angered only fueled him to fight them off as well. Rearing back his arm for another punch, he suddenly stopped, breathing so hard he felt as if his lungs might explode. "Christian?" He looked up into Arcee's eyes as she leaned over the bed, her cheeks stained with tears. She embraced him just as the piano began to play in the hall. "Christian, let's go." She whispered. Nodding, with no energy left, he picked her up in his arms and carried her to his flat. Not knowing what to say to one another, the two embraced one another tightly, afraid to let go. They held on to one another in the darkness of his room, listening to another's heart beats, and the lulling sound of their breaths. And although it was entirely silent, the sound of the piano's haunting melody from the Moulin Rouge could still be heard. The tap of each key felt like a whirlwind of fury, threatening to attack them. And yet, they clung to another. Christian tried to overcome the guilt that was plaguing him. Arcee was trying to forget everything about herself. And together, with their arms wrapped around another, they succeeded, falling into a deep sleep. Perhaps things would be better in the morning. 


End file.
